


Full

by accioserotonin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Eating Disorders, Emotional Support, F/M, Making Out, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Ravenclaw Reader, Some Fluff, Young Sirius Black, plus sized reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:15:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26705086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/accioserotonin/pseuds/accioserotonin
Summary: Freezing rain lashed relentlessly against the high windows of Ravenclaw tower, obscuring the view of what lay beyond the thin pane of glass. It had been like that for nearly a week now, torrential downpour flooding the grounds, making the trek to both Care of Magical Creatures and Herbology a miserable affair for those who did not yet have a grasp on water repelling and warming charms. Despite having perfected both, you were still not safe, as your boyfriend, Sirius, had found great amusement in traipsing through the rain unprotected just so he could shake his long hair out at you like an ill behaved dog; much to your chagrin he’d even developed an uncanny ability of sensing the exact moment when the spells dropped, wasting no time in launching his attack.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 34





	Full

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings!!! Explicit discussion of an eating disorder (primarily bulimia) and some of its side effects. Story deals with a character in recovery dealing with ED triggers. Character is also plus sized which does affect how people treat her in regards to it.**
> 
> It is not my intention to romanticize or glorify eating disorders, they are hell, nothing less. Based on my own experiences and the request this is my attempt at a frank, realistic portrayal of an issue that way too many people have dealt with, or are currently dealing with. If content like this may even be slightly triggering to you, please, please, skip it; nothing is worth that, there is help out there. Reader is in recovery.

Freezing rain lashed relentlessly against the high windows of Ravenclaw tower, obscuring the view of what lay beyond the thin pane of glass. It had been like that for nearly a week now, torrential downpour flooding the grounds, making the trek to both Care of Magical Creatures and Herbology a miserable affair for those who did not yet have a grasp on water repelling and warming charms. Despite having perfected both, you were still not safe, as your boyfriend, Sirius, had found great amusement in traipsing through the rain unprotected just so he could shake his long hair out at you like an ill behaved dog; much to your chagrin he’d even developed an uncanny ability of sensing the exact moment when the spells dropped, wasting no time in launching his attack. 

Such had been the case earlier that afternoon when he’d swooped on you from behind, wrapping both arms tight around the thick of your middle to pin you against his chest, bits of hair tickling your face as he whipped his head back and forth enthusiastically. 

It was during this encounter, as you had attempted to squirm out of his hold, that the button on your skirt had popped, skittering across the cobblestone of the hall until it was halted by James’ heel. Sirius had quickly apologized with an easy grin, while Peter offered to mend the garment for you, claiming he had to help the other sixth year boys repair their uniforms often. Waves of ill feeling had begun washing over you, and so, wanting nothing more than to be alone in that moment, you had politely but firmly declined his offer, pressed a kiss to Sirius cheek, and departed with a wave to the other boys. It wasn’t until you were a third of the way up the main staircase that Sirius had called after you to hurry so that you wouldn’t miss lunch, but you figured you were far enough away at that point that he would believe you hadn’t heard, and so you didn’t respond. 

The entire journey back to Ravenclaw tower you had clung to the waistband of your skirt, determined not to let it slip even a microscopic amount. It wasn’t until you had made it to your dorm to change that you realized, despite the broken enclosure, it had been in no danger of budging at all, tight as it was on your frame. 

Tears came unabated then, the full force of your emotions knocking you back. Slumping into the worn armchair nearest the window you fought to steady your breathing, focusing on well-measured exhales and inhales, the rain beating against the window, the ticking of your watch, anything to distract you; you felt too…too big, not just for your skit, but your skin, as if at any moment you’d burst from the seams. You desperately need out. 

It was a familiar feeling, one that you used to struggle with daily, the height of which saw you trapped in a vicious cycle of binging and purging followed by days of not eating at all. During that time the aching pangs of hunger in your stomach had served as a twisted comfort; they gave you a false feeling of being in control, they proved that you weren’t too big, that there was empty room left within you, you wouldn’t burst. 

In the end it was all a lie, nothing short of hell; you had lost hair, your teeth grew sensitive to temperature changes and sweets, you were tired all the time, light-headed, miserable. Even then the cycle was hard to break, a sick form of addiction that kept you spinning. No one seemed to notice, if you lost weight it was met with congratulations instead of concern, an encouragement to “keep it up.” At some point you realized that as big as you were no one would suspect your private struggles, there would be no concern driven intervention for something that no one else could see. If you wanted help you’d have to find it for yourself, and so you did. You made the decision to tell the Matron at Hogwarts , to seek support, to fight for yourself and keep fighting everyday. 

Slowly but surely you had made progress, begun to eat again without fear, without succumbing to cycles of binging, purging, and starvation. You were so much happier, healthier, thoughts of food, of eating, did not consume your every waking minute. Even now you knew the popped button wasn’t a bad thing, but despite knowing that you were still floundering. Feelings, addictions, struggles, they didn’t disappear overnight; you would get through it, but you would have to ride it out. 

So you sat, you hugged yourself, you watched the rain, and you repeated; “I’m okay, it’s okay, I’m okay.” Through lunch, through the rest of your classes, through the first part of dinner. Despite feeling marginally better by then, you hesitated in going down, a small part of you wanting to cling to the ache that had been building in your stomach since that afternoon. But you pushed past it, focusing instead on how you could care for your body by giving it what it needed, and for your mind by seeing Sirius. 

Being in separate houses it could occasionally be heard to catch him outside of meals and lessons if you hadn’t already made plans ahead of time, though for his part he always seemingly knew where to find you, so you channeled that desire to get your feet moving. 

By the time you reached the Great Hall the meal was half over, many students having already left; thankfully Sirius was still there sat beside Remus and a seventh year who he hurriedly waved away so you could take the seat next to him. The minute you were settled he dropped an around your shoulders and pressed a kiss to your neck, nuzzling you, and complaining about your absence from your last shared lesson of the day; “I’m meant to be the bad influence here. At the very least if you’re going to ditch, invite me.” 

Humming out a noncommittal response you reached for the nearest dish; while worried that it’d be hard to eat once you arrived, Sirius and Remus proved themselves perfect distractions, allowing you to switch over to autopilot and give your body what it needed, sustenance. 

It wasn’t until pudding had been served and Remus had excused himself that Sirius turned the full weight of his eyes on you in consideration; “For real, are you okay?” 

Not wanting to get into everything, nor wanting to lie, you shrugged your shoulders instead; “Can we go somewhere private?” 

Sirius’ eyebrows shot up, the lecherous grin he always toted when you snuck away together overtaking his face; however, before he could open his mouth, you quickly interjected “It’s been a rough day, I could just really use a hug.” 

His features smoothed immediately, brows dropping, and mouth quirking in concern; “Anything for you, Dove.” 

Shortly thereafter you found yourself snuggled up in one of the castle’s many secret passageways, this particular one having been repurposed as a private escape with thick quilts and soft feather-stuffed pillows. Sirius had his legs sticking out straight in front of him, back braced against the wall, with you straddling his lap, knees on either side of his hips. Your arms were wrapped tight around his waist, face nestled in the junction of his neck, breathing him in; his arms were just as securely fastened around you, one hand slowly tracking up and down your back as you sat intertwined. There were no words exchanged for much of the rest of the evening; and while Sirius couldn’t heal you, couldn’t magically fix your problems, or take away the thoughts in your head, his arms were comforting. In them you did not feel overwhelmed, or out of control, or too big. No, in his arms, with him, you just felt safe, cared for. 

=====

Nearly two months had passed since the incident with the popped button; the morning after you had gone to see Hogwarts Matron, confiding in her the thoughts and feelings that had resurfaced. She had talked with you for a long while, assuring you that no journey was without its peaks and valleys, and that what had happened was completely normal; sending you away with new techniques for dealing with such things, and encouragement and affirmations of how very proud she was of you. Following that things had gone relatively back to normal, you were able to repair your skirt, letting it out a bit in the process, and continue moving forward. There were a few bad days, but nothing quite like that one until you found yourself in the kitchens late one night with Sirius. 

The day had been pleasant, much of it spent on the grounds waging a snowball fight with a gaggle of first years, and building an army of snow creatures, all wrapped with matching blue and bronze scarves. At dinner Sirius had joined you at the Ravenclaw table, bringing with him a mug of Remus’s personally concocted cocoa mix, and you’d promised to meet him in the kitchens that evening after he served detention for being out on the grounds after hours. 

In the kitchens you’d requested trays of sugary biscuits for decorating, each one you did more iced than the last. Occasionally one of you would lean over to snag a kiss, sweet and sticky. 

The hours, and number of sweets consumed, had escaped you until Sirius had you pinned up against the wall in a darkened corridor, mouth working hurriedly against your own as his hands roamed from your waist to your ass. It wasn’t until his hips slid against your own, the fabric of his jeans causing delicious friction through your skirt, that you realized just how you were feeling; aroused, yes, but also full. Too full. 

You were stuffed, absolutely stuffed. Dinner, the cocoa, the biscuits, they had all caught up with you; you had eaten too much, you needed it out. You needed to get to the loo, you needed to get your fingers down your throat. You needed to feel empty. Pulling back from Sirius abruptly you squeezed your eyes shut tight against the feeling of panic swirling within you, fighting back against the intrusive thoughts. 

As soon as your lips detached from his own Sirius sensed something was wrong, pupils still blown wide with lust, his eyes roamed your features; “Hey, hey talk to me. What’s going on?” 

Eventually. Eventually you had planned to tell Sirius everything. Eventually, but not now, not in the corridor with him half hard and you fighting not to cry. But life cares little for timing, and so the words came tumbling out anyway, an abated version, one that you would eventually elaborate on. You poured out your struggles, your triumphs, the hurdles you still had to cross, the urge you were currently fighting against. He nodded along attentively, waiting for you to finish before pulling you into a crushing hug; there was so much he wanted to say, to ask, to apologize for, but all of it could wait. Nothing else mattered but trying to help in that current moment; “Tell me what I can do.” 

His words brought a fresh wave of tears to your eyes, you thought of asking him to take you to the Hospital Wing, but instead; “I-I usually just try to sleep through it when this happens. When I wake up the feeling of fullness has usually faded and I can- I can better deal with it. Just distract me, please, until I can get to bed.” 

Sirius immediately launched into a chaotic story involving Peter’s pants, Remus’s last chocolate bar, and a very drunk James Potter. He kept talking the entire time, doing his best to distract you as he steered you towards the Gryffindor boys dormitory. 

It was relatively unheard of for members of different houses to go into each other’s common rooms, let alone their dormitories, but he didn’t much care for rules at any time, let alone now. So he pulled you in through the portrait, despite her protests, and up the stairs, despite fellow Gryffindor’s protests, and straight into his bed. He wrapped you tightly in his arms, the whole time talking, distracting, until at last you were sound asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> This was requested on tumblr (find me @acciobraincell), and is a topic near and dear to my heart. I hope I have done it some justice, and treated it with the care and respect it deserves. 
> 
> Feedback always appreciated! Cheers xx


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